


speechless and redundant

by smolarmstrong



Category: Green Day
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 11:18:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10535391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolarmstrong/pseuds/smolarmstrong
Summary: Mike doesn't really believe in love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> totally based off redundant, 100000%
> 
> hope y'all enjoy

They were in Minnesota, or North Dakota, or simply just a fucking cold ass state that none of them were used to. They all stood outside the van in the thick fog for a smoke break, drawing in thick chunks of smoke and laughing them out when one of them said a distasteful dick joke. 

Billie choked quickly on his Newports as Tré mimed out a sick hooker and blow session, giggling at Tré’s twisted face. Mike’s mind went blank for a millisecond, hyper focusing on Billie, on his laugh, on his frostbitten nose and fingerless gloves free, holding the small stub of his light in his fingertips. He looks tired - hell, Billie looks tired all the time now a days - but he also looks happy, glowing in a way. His nose is crinkled high in a sense of hilarious disgust as Tré pretends to reach climax onto the fake hooker’s back. Mike can feel his heart swell, blow up ten-times its normal size. Words can't quantify how much he really loves Billie - all of his small features, his closed but loud personality, his every little detail.

“Mike, are you even gonna smoke that thing? You’re gonna burn your fingers off,” that knocked Mike back to his senses, knocked all of the wind out from his stomach. It felt like someone had kicked him full force in the chest, but it felt good, it felt euphoric.

“I...I, uh, um, y-yeah…” Mike’s voice sounded like he just fell off a fence, back first. His voice was gone, he was a loss for words, the only words that stuck at the tip of his tongue were, “I just love you so much, Billie Joe.”

But “I love you,” isn't enough. Mike knows that. It's more than love, he thinks, something bigger and not yet named.

Billie just giggled again, the giggle that knocks Mike right off of his feet. “Whatever, you big lug. I’ll still love you if you go crazy one day,” Billie shouldered Mike, flicking ashes from the tip of his cigarette as Tré giggled a long, obviously playful, “Gaaaaaay!”

Mike can't speak. “I love you,” is not enough, but it actually means something coming from Billie. Love isn't something that comes natural to Mike, but it seeps off Billie’s entire being.

Billie keeps giggling, laughing and Tré’s gross antics in a not-safe-for-work game of charades with himself. Mike absent-mindedly links his hand with Billie’s, and the older holds back tight, running his fingers over the blond’s worn knuckles. Mike takes a thick drag of his cigarette, reaching the filter quickly.

I love you is enough.


End file.
